Author Topic: The Galactic War: Rogue Element ~The Beginning  (Read 37143 times)

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Offline Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)

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The Galactic War: Rogue Element ~The Beginning
« on: November 09, 2012, 08:40:30 PM »
The Galactic War:  Rogue Element

Chapter 1:  The Price of Greatness


It is the height of the Andalite-Yeerk war and combat engulfs the galaxy.  Ship cores nova and soldiers die on both sides.  The Andalites have launched a successful attack against the courageous Yeerk Rebellion, all but obliterating them from existence.  Meanwhile, the Empire has launched its own successful attack on the Andalite Alpha-Line, forcing the Andalites to withdraw deeper into their own space.

In one small corner deep within the secure confines of Andalite space, a dark secret hides…a small moon called Primus, orbiting the second planet of the Corvus system.  It seems innocuous, almost peaceful.  The Andalites’ original effort to terraform a planet has at once succeeded and failed on Primus.  The small moon now has a partially-breathable atmosphere where there was none before.  Large colonies of oxogenic, extremophile bacteria survive by feeding upon the chemical energy within the soil of Primus, but re-breathers are necessary for extended exposure.  The small planet might be able to support plant-life in a hundred years, but for now it’s little more than rock, iron-rich dirt, and water condensed from the atmosphere of the giant, blue-green gas planet that is Corvus II.

To one who knows little about the moon, it might pass as little more than a curiosity, but concealed under a camouflage field sits a small complex.  A high-strength polymer dome protects a lush, green oasis of verdant life.  Half of that expanse is covered by a lush yard of grass and well-groomed trees, the other half is covered by an innocuous looking building.  Its purpose isn’t obvious, though it looks like little more than an office building.

Inside reside nearly one-hundred Andalites…scientists, officers, security staff, engineers, and researchers.  Their goal, to develop new technologies and garner new knowledge through experimentation on Yeerk weapons, technology, and the Yeerks themselves.  The facility is large enough to potentially house upwards of two-hundred live Yeerks, as well as preserved Yeerk corpses.  The facility can also hold up to fifty prior hosts, though only on a temporary basis.

On level zero, the recently-arrived hosts to the supposed “rebels” are kept in 2m x 4m cells where peaceful simulated sights and sounds of plainsland and forest on earth loop through the holo-emitters on the walls and ceiling.  They had all been questioned, nicely for the most part, and more than once, but never were they allowed to communicate with each other.  All seemed voluntary, (one didn’t even have a controller), but all were committed to the rebel lie.  Perhaps brain-washing or memory-modification…whatever the reason, nearly every Andalite at the facility wrinkled his breathing slits at the thought of someone giving up all freedom in life.  At least the liaison the Andalites had brought in had soothed the poor creatures somewhat.

On the so-called non-existent level, level negative one, the Yeerks are kept in much less…pleasant…accommodations.  Kept in very small 2 decimeter x 2 decimeter pool units, just enough liquid is cycled through the units to keep the Yeerks inside from desiccating.  They’re only communication, two small nodes that could be interfaced with palps connected to a sole internal memory unit, in case the Yeerk within decides to become talkative.  There is no connection between the cell units and the main computer, nor is there any connection between the cells.  The units are stacked in an arrangement that reminds one of a front-loading filing cabinet, and each cell-unit is cataloged with the Yeerk inside.  The entire block is bathed in a sickly, weak glow…just enough Kandrona to keep the Yeerks within on the brink of starvation.

All of the so-called rebels have been interrogated of course, and not nearly so nicely as their hosts.  The individual cell-units, when connected to the “interrogation device,” are capable of administering many things to the Yeerk inside…from a weak bath of caustic chemicals to low-voltage electrical shock.  The cell can even vary the temperatures inside the cell to baking hot or frigid cold.  Anything really that could cause pain or discomfort without death.  It is…not a nice place to be a Yeerk.  In a slightly confusing turn of events, most of the Yeerks had slid out voluntarily instead of being…removed from their hosts.  One could almost think they wished to spare their hosts the discomfort of the process, but then the Yeerks might’ve merely been wishing to avoid the pain themselves.

Meanwhile, a group of vigilantes and “traitors,” Andalites all, hurtle their way through the blank whiteness of Z-space aboard the Apix Mirage.  Each thinks his or her own thoughts about the drastic turn their lives have taken, and about the upcoming combat against their own kind as they regroup for one final briefing…the beginning of the unsung war...the beginning of the Rogue Element.



“There comes a time in everyone’s life when greatness is demanded.  The great are merely those willing to rise to the occasion, no matter the cost.”
                                                                                                               
                    ~Prince  Raigar-Markovan-Erethul
« Last Edit: January 30, 2015, 10:14:45 PM by Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin) »
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Offline Chad32

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #1 on: November 09, 2012, 09:12:19 PM »
Claxter had volunteered to join Ossanlin on the mission to save the rebels, and bring justice to the wrong committed against them. He was given the opportunity to refuse, but felt he owed Ossanlin, and was better off with him. Also going to help the rebels may mean he got to see and help Efaen. If she was alive, that is. If she had died, he'd personally put Corliss and Terenia on the business end of a shredder for convincing her to go for selfish reasons. He knew they never really wanted her to go, except as Terenia's host.

It was no time to be angry, though. He was ready for debriefing before their rescue mission. It would be strange, breaking into an Andalite facility to rescue Yeerks. He'd have to try not to kill anyone. Hopefully he wouldn't falter when Ossanlin needed him. He had been in real battles before and proven victorious, and would try his best here. He just needed to focus on his orders, and not worry about nervousness, or what he might find in the facility.

The new Hork-Bajir morph had been an interesting experience. The mind itsself was peaceful, but had a lot of power. He knew this, of course, but hadn't felt it personally. The tail was good, but he needed to remember not to rely on it too much. He was to be a controller, not a morphed Andalite.


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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #2 on: November 09, 2012, 09:41:13 PM »
Enorryma-Almoress-Ingrell was full of restless energy prior to the mission; her fingers kept drifting toward the Shredder on her belt, and her stalk-eyes must have swept the space behind her nine times in the last five minutes, despite the fact that the only thing behind her was the featureless wall of the hull. More than once, somebody had moved past her through the doorway, bumping against her in the crammed space, and she'd snapped <Pay attention, you oaf!>, but with none of her usual enthusiastic disdain: the center of her attention was all on Ossanlin, waiting for him to say the word which would send the entire crew spiraling into action.

The prospect of the mayhem thrilled her, but she would never admit to it if asked. Norry genuinely could not imagine any activity more vital and life-affirming than rushing head-first into a fray of Shredder-fire with allies and her Prince at her flanks... except possibly doing the same thing from the ****pit of a fighter, in tight formations designed to trick, trap, and eliminate even the cleverest of Yeerk enemy pilots.

Morphing, however, was not quite so high on Norry's list of ideal ways to spend a mission.
Bipedal herbivore, equipped to climb, to leap, and to cut; no strong instincts to speak of. Binocular vision with a wide periphery of monocular vision. Excellent hearing, poor night vision, moderate olfactory responses, high pain tolerance, opposable thumbs, strong upper and lower body... Norry recited a mental litany of the features of the Hork-Bajir morph. None of it was exactly news to her, but if she was going to give up her native body in favour of something less natural, then she wanted to be sure she understood the ins and outs of the shape she would be taking.
No, who wa she kidding? She hated morphing, hasn't had to do it in years, and now she had to talk herself into it, remind herself that in many ways, this morph was vastly more suitable to the mission than her own body, and it had traits which made it operatively similar enough to an Andalite body that she would not lose herself in the process.

I should have practiced it off-duty. Of course this was obvious now, but when she was off-duty, the idea of giving up meditative time in favour of shedding her already powerful, perfectly adequate body for this scaled, menacing, unintelligent, pathetically docile shape was laughably wasteful.

No, never go into a mission without being mentally prepared for it. Her expression hardened as she pushed back an old and painful memory, the loss of the first of several wingmen to their own unpreparedness, ****y attitudes, and lack of focus. She followed Ossanlin for many reasons, but perhaps the most meaningful of these was that he was always ready for the mission before he led the crew into it. His confidence was not reckless arrogance. His focus was absolute. It did not matter that he was younger than Enorryma; his mental preparedness and attention to detail made him worth ten wingmen of greater age and lesser focus.  That kind of Prince deserved total commitment from his TO, and that's what he got from Norry.

It just happened that at this particular moment, Norry's total commitment took the form of incessant silent hovering three paces away, all eyes on him, sweeping the room and returning to him repeatedly. She waited with the coiled restless tension and sharp temper of a stim-addicted fighter pilot who was forced to retire before she could burn out her brain or her hearts in the ****pit or on the wrong end of a Dracon Cannon. Nobody else on the bridge needed to be tense- Norry took care of that in spades, on behalf of anybody else who couldn't muster spare energy for anticipation of the coming mission.
The universe is, instant by instant, re-created anew. There is, in truth, no Past, only a memory of the Past. Blink your eyes, and the world you see next did not exist when you closed them. The only appropriate state of the mind is surprise. The only appropriate state of the heart is joy. The sky you see now, you have never seen before. The perfect moment is now. Be glad of it.

-GNU Terry Pratchet, The Thief of Time

Offline Ember Nickel

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #3 on: November 09, 2012, 10:59:37 PM »
Esarvit paced the common area of the Mirage, grateful for artificial gravity. Oh, it had been all well and good to toss and turn in the limitless expanse of space, back when his body was up (and down. and sideways.) for the challenge, but those days were long gone. Now, he felt, if he had a mouth, he'd be liable to regurgitate his food should anything go wrong with the orientation boosters.

Mouths were unattractive entities, if he said so himself. Particularly the insatiable Taxxon holes, dead stars in miniature, sucking the worlds into themselves. But the thought of being a Hork-Bajir felt little more appealing.

He had acquired the morph long before, back when several fellow arisths and himself had been unexpectedly pulled into combat near the Ongachic system. Another, much faster, tail-fighter had knocked out the young female troop while he was still trying to parry her blades. And, under the glare of their Prince, they'd both acquired her DNA just in case it came in handy for further espionage.

They'd let her go, still unconscious. The Electorate, Esarvit was convinced, did not need unnecessary blood on its tails.

He slowly made his way around the outside wall of the room, hoping the morph was still young and hale. He was going to have a hard enough time galumphing around on two legs, as it was...

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #4 on: November 09, 2012, 11:12:00 PM »
Claxter entered the room where Enorryma and Ossanlin were. He was trying to go over how to fight as a Hork-Bajir. The body had no fighting instincts, but he was trying to remember how he fought the warrior in the field of the asteroid. He had been in some ways similar to a Hork-Bajir, but much more powerful.

<Excuse me, TO Enorryma? Would you mind sparring with me once before we arrive? I would like to make sure I have this morph's capabilities down.> Enorryma looked bored, standing there staring at Ossanlin. Perhaps she'd be willing to help him in a more spacious room.


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Offline Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #5 on: November 09, 2012, 11:24:54 PM »
Ossanlin sighs as he finishes his Hork-Bajir morph.  He'd probably used his much more recently than the others, but it was still unsettling.  The loss of his stalk-eyes was the most-disturbing portion of almost any morph.  Ossanlin sorts through his thoughts as he glances around the Mirage's common room with the hork-bajir's slightly lesser sense of sight.  He steps up to the holo-emitter table and calls up an enlarged display.  Claxter was already in morph, but none of the others besides himself seem to have proceeded.  <<Not before the final briefing, Claxter.>>  Though he says nothing publicly, allowing Enorryma to respond as she would.  After all, Claxter had not specified that the sparring happen now, and there was still some time before the Mirage would land at the Corvus facility.

He glances back at Norry, his shadow now that they'd left the Electorate more than ever.  <<You may not agree with me, Norry, but I still believe it wise to run through this scenario once while in morph.>>  He uses the more-familiar shortened version of her name almost entirely now, after all, they share quite a bit.

He moves his eyes to Esarvit, restlessly pacing the room.  <Esarvit, could you morph and come to the table please?>  Two other Warriors, Ehvrin and Aurrelia were already standing near the table.  Aurrelia had already begun her own graceful morphing process, but Ossanlin has to nod at Ehvrin before he begins his morph.  He glances up at the flight-deck.  <Leskel, Z-Space can watch itself for a few minutes, come down here.>  The middle-aged helmsman responds with a sigh as he turns and starts trotting down the small ramp.  He doesn't morph, but then he won't be needing to.  Not a hork-bajir anyway.

He waits patiently for all of his Warriors to gather at the display before speaking again as he brings up the appropriate files for the Corvus facility.
« Last Edit: November 09, 2012, 11:46:30 PM by Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin) »
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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #6 on: November 10, 2012, 04:21:18 AM »
<<Of course, Sir.>> Enorryma's mental voice was terse when she addressed Ossanlin, but she was not about to create a problem for him so close to mission time. While it was completely acceptable for him to use a familiar form of her name, it did not do for Norry to treat Ossanlin as anything less than a commanding officer: he was younger than her, but Norry was not going to put a cramp in morale and decorum by calling attention to that point, instead emphasizing his rank first and foremost. The least she could do for him right now was get in morph, as requested, but she still had to psyche herself up to doing it.

She began to morph the Hork-Bajir, a slow and graceless process which her reluctance only further aggravated. Her one consolation at this point was that at least this body was strong and had steady hands sized well for her sidearm and for an ASAR.

As she morphed, she addressed Claxter, more than a little bit grateful to know that somebody else was unready enough with the morph to want a quick pre-mission mock fight. <I believe I, too, would benefit from a brief sparring match to verify my combat aptitude in morph. Are you willing to wait until we are briefed? It would be a waste of fighting adrenaline and endorphins to spar at this point, but shortly before the mission itself it will help our energy and focus in the mission itself.>

Norry waited near Ossanlin at the display, for the briefing.

The universe is, instant by instant, re-created anew. There is, in truth, no Past, only a memory of the Past. Blink your eyes, and the world you see next did not exist when you closed them. The only appropriate state of the mind is surprise. The only appropriate state of the heart is joy. The sky you see now, you have never seen before. The perfect moment is now. Be glad of it.

-GNU Terry Pratchet, The Thief of Time

Offline Chad32

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #7 on: November 10, 2012, 12:16:36 PM »
<Thank you Ma'am. I believe the Prince will be ready for debriefing momentarily. Afterwards I would appreciate some test sparring.> Claxter barely noticed that Norry was female, with the way she held herself, though addressing her as female did bring it to the back of his mind. He wondered if Efaen would be like her later in life. They were both serious, and unafraid of battle. That is, if Efaen lived that long.

He had considered sparring with her when she was in her normal form, but she also needed practice in her morph. He supposed it would be fine, though. Hopefully they wouldn't embarrass themselves and each other with poor attempts at fighting.
« Last Edit: November 10, 2012, 12:18:34 PM by Chad30 »


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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #8 on: November 10, 2012, 04:42:04 PM »
<Yes, sir,> says Esarvit, and the changes begin.

His tail blade is first to go, but then, it wasn't much of a blade to begin with. In his younger days he had wondered if he could sharpen it when transitioning between morphs, but there seems to be more than DNA preserved in the morphing process--age, for one.

Don't get distracted, he tells himself, the time for science is later.

His stalk-eyes shrink down and powerful blades begin growing out of his newly-green limbs. So much for worrying about the tail; these are powerful natural weapons of their own, if only he had the instinct to use them.

He feels for the Hork-Bajir mind underneath--a primitive species, to be sure, but there's something alive in the brain. Something simple. Hork-Bajir are focused on one moment at time; there is no pointless nostalgia for the inaccessible past, but then again, not much room for hope.

Esarvit walks to the front of the table, meeting Ossanlin there.

Offline Luke Skywalker (Ossanlin)

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #9 on: November 10, 2012, 07:40:48 PM »
Ossanlin nods, his demeanor changing to one of business, and a business of command at that.

<Good.  Now, once again we will be assaulting during the moon's umbral night.  Solar reflex is unpredictable during this time, and the darkness is deepest.>  He glances at Esarvit.  <You'll be using reverse sensor output to project interference over the Maintenance Entrance here.>  Ossanlin commands the maintenance landing pads and entrance to expand.

<There will be one stationary guard and one mobile patrolling guard.  We'll land with the active camouflage engaged while the patrolling guard is on his return trip.  The patrol route takes five standard minutes to complete.  After landing, Enorryma will exit and take the shot on the stationary guard using one of the modified ASARs.>  He nods to Norry before moving his eyes to Leskel.  <After the guard is down and stunned, we will all exit the Mirage.  Leskel will immediately acquire and morph the guard, Aurrelia will affix the suppressant collar to him.  Ennoryma and Claxter will keep watch while Ehvrin, Esarvit, and I open the maintenance-level hatch here.>  The dot marking the maintenance hatch begins to blink.  <Leskel will take up the stationary guard position and keep an eye on our exit route.  These maintenance hatches are vertical, only morphs can fit through them...they're meant only for emergencies.>

<The rest of us will climb down three levels to reach the maintenance tunnels.  The tunnels should be deserted, security doesn't patrol them.  The only ones who enter the maintenance levels are engineers, and then only for upkeep.   Enorryma and I will take up position at this maintenance hatch leading down into the singularity chamber while Claxter and Ehvrin move here to attach the first floor-breacher underneath the Yeerk cell-block.  Esarvit and Aurellia will move to the southern maintenance hatch here, and climb up into the maintenance room on level negative one where they will attach the second floor-breacher here underneath the central computer chamber on level zero.>

Ossanlin pauses to regard each of his Warriors in turn, waiting to see if each clearly understood their roles up to that point.

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #10 on: November 10, 2012, 08:36:34 PM »
<Understood, sir.> Claxter said. Ossanlin mentioned they would reach the Yeerk Cell block first. It seemed to him like it would be better to rescue the hosts first, since they could help with the second part of the rescue attempt, though maybe they were rescuing the Yeerks first just because the better path to take took them closer to the Yeerks first. He didn't bother asking why, since he was sure ossanlin was on top of everything that could and needed to be done.

His job was just to memorize the plan, and do his best to carry it out.


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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #11 on: November 10, 2012, 10:27:19 PM »
Norry inclined her head toward Ossanlin and did the nearest approximation in this morph of an at-ready posture. Privately she wondered if it was completely necessary to rescue the Yeerks... if they couldn't simply free the hosts and be done with it... but she was not about to voice this thought to anybody else. No doubt there was a perfectly military-rational reason for bringing the Yeerks along, even if she didn't know what it was just yet. She trusted Ossanlin.

The universe is, instant by instant, re-created anew. There is, in truth, no Past, only a memory of the Past. Blink your eyes, and the world you see next did not exist when you closed them. The only appropriate state of the mind is surprise. The only appropriate state of the heart is joy. The sky you see now, you have never seen before. The perfect moment is now. Be glad of it.

-GNU Terry Pratchet, The Thief of Time

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #12 on: November 11, 2012, 10:33:29 AM »
<Yes, sir,> says Esravit, his eyes focusing on his commander's own. He tries to swivel his stalk eyes to catch a glimpse of Aurrelia, but of course, there are no stalk eyes in sight. Oh well.

Five standard minutes. Who was it that set up this standard? Or are planetary orbits, even across solar system, so correctly aligned as to create a-- He stops himself again.

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #13 on: November 11, 2012, 06:52:47 PM »
The sun is shining in Christopher O'Hearn's cell.

If he weren't so angry, it would almost be funny. He hadn't seen the sun, not even a holographic impression of the sun, in a long, long time. To see it now, after so much pain, after so much loss and chaos, was the ultimate insult.

He had reminded himself of the falseness of the images often the past few days, usually by throwing a fist at the wall, reassured by the sharp thud of his knuckles against what appeared to be thin air.

Now, though, Chris was not punching. He was not yelling or swearing or threatening, all of which he had done frequently, much to his Andalite guards' dismay. The liaison they sent in to calm him was a joke -- another insult added to injury, and she never returned after her first failed attempt to communicate with him.

No, now he was sitting, back against one wall, knees pulled up to his chest, head buried in his hands. His fingers were curled against his scalp, buried deep in his thick, strawberry blonde hair. I need a haircut. The seemingly random and innocuous thought sends a stab of pain through him, and he feels emotion welling up in his throat again.

Tess... Where was she? His partner, the mother of his unborn children. Every time he tries to imagine her circumstances he has to push the thought away. There were too many what ifs. What if the chaos had pushed her into labor? What if she was injured? What if she hadn't made it at all?


"Don't you ****ing dare," Chris whispers to himself. He doesn't want to even begin thinking about that. The last he had seen of Tess, Keslin had been telling her to go, run, get to safety while he found Reven and helped with the evacuation. He never found Reven. He never saw Tess again.

He swallows, hugging his knees closer to his chest. If Keslin were here, he'd know what to do. That thought had been circulating his thoughts more and more lately. Keslin had always been the leader, the negotiator, the business-person. But his Yeerk friend had been forced to leave him, and before Chris could protest Keslin had been shuttled away to God-****ing-knows-where. The thought of what the Andalites might do to him sends a shiver up Chris' spine.

The worst part of it, by far, is that the Andalites actually thought they were saving him. Imbeciles, Chris thinks, feeling another bout of rage coming on.

With nowhere to direct his anger he glares at the ground, letting it simmer slowly. Irritable, impatient, and desperate for news he waits, having no other options.



Keslin's own thoughts are, unsurprisingly, not far from Chris', although he has an additional concern. The severe shortage of Kandrona has left his worries scattered, and they flicker in and out of his thoughts in a desperate, almost manic sort of way. He hasn't been this weak, this starved, in years. Still, despite the overwhelming hunger, his fears continue to circle back around to Chris and Tess -- especially Tess. And to Reven, who he was unable to locate on base. And to his people, the nomadic rebel pirates who he had led for almost a decade. And to--

No, don't, he chastises himself. That was a direction his thoughts could not wander. No matter how hungry he was, no matter how much pain he was in.

How many had survived? How many had been shoved, like him, into an insultingly small box where they had been starved, tortured, and treated like less than animals by the Andalites? And, almost more important to him than his fellow Yeerks, was the question of what happened to the humans they inhabited.

Part of him, a small part, recognizes the inevitability of their situation. How many times had they had a near brush with death, with torture, with their enemies? How many times had they barely escaped? But Keslin had never thought the end of their security would come from the Andalites rather than the Empire.

Trapped within the confines of his painfully small, painfully inadequate tub, Keslin shivers in pain, hoping that when they come for him, as he knows they will, they will at least give him a quick death.

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Offline Myitt

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Re: The Galactic War: Rogue Element
« Reply #14 on: November 11, 2012, 08:09:43 PM »
"Please, not the birds again."

Tara LaFauci doesn't look up at the pleasant mountain landscape with its chirping cacophony of ecologically misplaced tropical birds. The image has been beaming along one side of her tiny cell for the last three hours, part of a cycle that at first irritated her and has long since started to make her weary for it to end. Her head is buried in her arms, her knees stuffed up against her chest, well-worn blue jeans splotched by angry tears.

Her voice is little more than a croak. She's worn it out into a raw mess in the last few days, and Myitt hadn't done much better with it, barking orders as they attempted to get as many people to safety as possible in as little precious time as they'd had.

But those last few days, the uncertainty of not knowing what had happened to her friends, her family, every person she knew and loved in this war, that was far worse torture than this Andalite attempt at conciliation that took the form of a mountain stream and a toucan.

Myitt, she cries silently, sniffling aloud and hating herself for crying. She pounds an angry fist into her bare arm. God, Illim...Daniel... She blinks and looks up at the clear wall of her cell, swallowing back tears and anger, wiping her nose loudly and unapologetically with the back of her hand. The last time she'd seen her human-and-Yeerk husband duo they all had been in the midst of the rush to evacuate.

Pandemonium couldn't begin to describe what that horror had been like, and the base had survived emergency evacuations before. No one ever dreamed the decisive blow would come from the Andalites, and that sent another pang of anger and grief through Tara's chest. Especially after their supposed liaison had come to speak with her, here in this cell. Oh, how lucky the Andalite girl had been that Tara didn't have the Dracon that her fingers had been twitching for. Lucky that the protective force barrier had kept her own hands from the Andalite's scrawny neck.

Another nauseating rush. Illim Seven-One-Eight. Daniel Feldstein. A hasty kiss and a wordless nod, a desperate moment in which there had been nothing more important in the world than clinging to each other, refusing to leave--and they'd gone their separate ways, the four of them.

Now they may well be dead, and that brave, fiery-headed but level-headed ginger sonuva**** Reven, and Corliss who had once plucked them from the brink of death, and Makayla--she was just a ****ing toddler...no, she thinks bitterly. They're alive. They ****ing have to be. Can't think that way. You just can't, dammit. If she started down that path the crushing feeling in her chest would overwhelm her, and she wasn't sure if the end result would make her throw up, or break her toe bones while she kicked the everliving **** out of this cell.

A small, slightly crazed smile flits across her face as she considers the second prospect, swallowing the first one down hard. At least they let me keep my boots, she says to herself, resolute.

She sighs raggedly, taking a little comfort in that thought, waiting and listening to the dissonant sounds of Earth.



Myitt One-Nine-Five, unknowingly sitting one liquid cell above Keslin, tries desperately to turn around in the cramped space.

It isn't a very flattering or successful maneuver.

Her fluid myocytes ache from lack of use. It was maddening, being unable to stretch and swim.

But like her human friend Tara, there is a deeper fury running through her pain-addled mind.

Trapped as they'd been, by Andalites of all people--where had Ossanlin been, then? Where was he, now?--she had only left Tara voluntarily to spare the girl's already damaged ears any more pain.

She'd been questioned, tortured, left with nothing but impotent rage and ever-present grief. All that she had lived for these long years, all of it taken away. Her brothers, her partners, her friends. The very movement that they had been fighting for--that her friends had been dying for. All gone, and for what?

For what?

A stupid misunderstanding? An Imperial ploy? Where, where was the fatal piece they had missed? The one part of the equation that she could have solved that would have saved them? Could have saved more of them?

It's no use thinking about it now, she thinks to herself, refusing to use the pool-based communicator as she had nearly the entire duration of her capture. Her palps droop as she slumps, depressed, in the little bath of pitifully cool liquid. Even the slow pain of near starvation was a welcome reprieve from her thoughts, which were much more painful.

She waits, either for the pain of starvation to peak into madness and death, or for someone--anyone--to come and make contact. Even if that, too, meant death.
« Last Edit: November 11, 2012, 08:13:28 PM by Myitt »


"Screw drugs.  Smoke RAF." - Ash